Sugar Sweet
by BILLYKAPLAN666
Summary: Human AU. .:. Billy's family is struggling to make ends meet until he meets Teddy - a rich kid who seems to be far too generous with his money. .:. Eventual sexual content.


"I'm an omnivore, mom. I can't eat just vegetables," Joey, Billy's seven-year-old little brother, said after their fifth night with a meat-less dinner. 'Omnivore' had become his favorite word since he learned it in school last week. Billy himself scraped rice along his plate leisurely.

"You can and will survive without meat, Joseph. There is more than enough evidence to prove so."

"I can't wait 'til Monday... they have chicken nuggets at school," Matt (four years older than Joey and five younger than Billy) added dreamily.

Meat was expensive, Billy knew. Rice and beans weren't. Mom made a habit of adding different flavors to change up the meal each day. Today it was lemon.

"Shut up and eat. Be thankful you have anything," Billy muttered quietly.

The rest of dinner was silent, until Rebecca Kaplan assured her sons, at the end of the meal, "We just have to eat like this for a while. Just until things aren't so tight. In a month or two, it'll be much better."

"You've been saying that all year," Billy whispered as he climbed the stairs to his room.

* * *

It was dark. Billy kept it that way for some reason, these days. He could barely make out the outlines of the heroes on his walls - an array of bright blues, reds, and yellows made up the posters in his room, but mere moonlight did not do them justice. He'd been thinking about tearing them down. He was far too old for comic-book superheroes, wasn't he? That's what John Kesler told him nearly every day at school. He was almost seventeen, and he didn't know any boys his age who liked comic books. Come to think of it, he didn't really know any boys his age at all.

The eldest Kaplan turned over in bed, mind concentrating hard to think of a place he could work. He'd already applied and been denied twice for a job at the closest super-store, and Billy supposed it was because they didn't want to bother getting a work permit from his school. He had to be eighteen to work at all the convenience stores within twelve miles (he'd checked) and all the food shops he'd asked assured them they weren't hiring, but he could apply anyway.

Billy almost disliked the minimum wage laws. He'd work hard construction for five dollars an hour - that's how desperate he was.

His mind couldn't help but drift to the thought of 'self-employment'. His fingers felt at his bicep. He'd been working out lately - what if... what if he started fighting? Did people really bet on things like that, or was that just in movies? High school seemed like a gold mine for it. 'Come, watch a gay, comic-book-loving outcast fight his long-time rival!' Billy wondered if 'rival' was an appropriate word for 'bully'.

With racing thoughts, Billy fell asleep hours later with graphic images of his triumph over John Kesler, the super-villain in his life.

* * *

"I thought gay guys dressed better," a familiar voice teased. "Wearing dad's old clothes? What, mom can't even afford to wash them first?"

Billy's jaw tightened, his fist clenched, his walk quickened - but he said nothing.

"I'm talking to you," John said angrily and shoved him from behind, kicking his foot when he walked past him on the ground. Billy, still silent but breathing hard, collected his books with scraped palms over the sidewalk. After a moment, John continued. "What? Got nothin' to say to me, faggot?"

"If I did, I'd say you oughtta come to terms with your sexuality so you can hurry up and apologize to all the boys you've bullied," Billy answered once he was on his feet again, staring right at Kesler - a dangerous move, because John punched him, let him stagger - again dropping his books - then punched him a second time before calling him the usual line of insults and walking away.

There were angry tears in his eyes as Billy set off for the gym.

* * *

The only good thing, Billy thought, about having a rich-kid private school in the middle of inner-city public schools was their supposed desire to 'reach out and improve' life for the more unfortunate youth. All this meant was that they kept their gym open and free for any kids nearby.

The school had been constructed just a year ago and there was an uproar from parents. "They can't fix the roads or pay their medical professionals," (the last one was a bit personal to her, after she'd been laid off and dad had his license revoked - _why_, Billy still didn't know) "but they can build a perfect school in the middle of terrible ones? Why not fix up schools around it?"

Not many of the kids at Billy's school knew about the open gym, and he never bothered to tell anyone. No more than four people were in it at any time, save for the days the prep school kids all used it - and sometimes Billy was even there by himself. As he walked in and absent-mindedly tightened the hand wraps around his knuckles, he noticed that today was, thankfully, one of those days.

Half an hour into mercilessly letting his anger out on the suspended punching bag, his arms were shaking. He could feel the peak of his punches ending - he'd have to stop soon.

"Whoa, these things punch back?" he suddenly heard an unfamiliar voice say.

Billy leaned to the side to peer behind the bag, and saw a very muscular blond boy with an assortment of metal lining his ears - staring at him. He had a slight grin on his face as he leaned against the wall. Billy ignored him and went back to hitting.

After a moment the stranger (who, Billy noticed, was wearing a shirt with the prep school's logo) stepped closer and held the bag - still grinning. Billy stopped.

"I'm trying to-"

"What happened to your eye?" he asked curiously.

"What do you _think_ happened to it?" Billy gave it a firm punch but the boy kept hold on it.

"Well...," he started, and Billy felt eyes glancing him over. His stomach tightened uncomfortably. "Who did it?"

"Just a bully."

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yeah."

He made a noise as if in thought, then said, "Well, you wanna fight me?" It was a gentle question - not a threat, like he'd expect from Kesler.

Billy glanced him over in return - avoiding his face when he realized, through the clearing blur of his anger, that he was almost _ridiculously_ cute. "I mean... don't take this wrong, but... you're... I don't think... well, _you'd crush me_."

White teeth were shown when the prep kid smiled brightly.

"I won't _really_ hit you. 'Least not hard. Just practice. You need it anyway, for this bully of yours."

Billy fell silent and finally lowered his hands, arms still shaking. "Probably done for the day..." he trailed off, pulling at his clinging sweat-soaked shirt.

"Tomorrow then?"

"School kids use it tomorrow."

"Shit, they do? Then, the next day?"

"Sure... sure, yeah," Billy muttered as he made his way to the showers. He watched the blond begin his own training before finally, _safely_ slipping away to get clean.

He was torn between looking forward to wrestling around with that rich kid because he was cute and dreading it _because he was cute_. He knew better than to hope he liked guys, too - so if things 'came up', maybe he'd have another bully, like John Kesler times two. _At least_ two. No - _two and a half_. He could only imagine the money-related insults a rich kid could come up with. And how hard the kid could hit. They couldn't afford a medical bill for a broken jaw...

"I'm Teddy, by the way," he panted as he paused, suspending himself in the air mid-pull-up once he saw Billy stepping from the locker rooms.

Billy glanced his way but only for a second, because he realized that Teddy was both _shirtless_ and _sweaty_.

_He didn't know some of those muscles existed._

"Billy," he murmured, taking his backpack over one shoulder and heading out the door.

"You should use both straps," Teddy called after him. "That's bad for your back."


End file.
